


relationship anxiety in a half shell

by ellipsesificate



Category: Community (TV)
Genre: Community Rarepair Bingo, Established Relationship, M/M, Pets
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-06
Updated: 2017-01-06
Packaged: 2018-09-15 06:28:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9223172
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ellipsesificate/pseuds/ellipsesificate
Summary: Duncan overthinks some things.





	

**Author's Note:**

> written for the community rarepair bingo (square: pets), over at communityrarepairs.tumblr.com, check it out!!

“Ben has crabs.”

It took a moment for Jeff to look up his mug, mentally rerunning the announcement as he raised his eyebrows at Duncan’s pinched, somber expression.  He knew that he couldn’t consider the teacher’s lounge a safe space from the tribulations of friendship, but he had hoped for at least a couple hours of peace.  “Wow, okay.  If you absolutely cannot hold off from greeting me in the morning with your newest relationship problem, at least let me get a couple cups of coffee in.  Or give me some morning scotch to smooth things over.”

“Wha—no, _no!_ ”  Duncan shook his head, scandalized, as Whitman and Garrity glanced over with raised eyebrows at the noise.  He glowered at them until they turned away.  “No, it’s…actual crabs.  Hermit crabs.  You may already be acquainted with them?”

“You mean he still has those?  I thought they all died or something when I no longer had to watch my step taking a shower.  Or he ate them or something.”

“Either they’re new ones he’s passing off as his old ones, or he really did reunite with them in the sewers.”

With a noncommittal grunt, Jeff took a long sip of his coffee.  Based off Duncan’s gloomy expression, there was something more going on – and from the way Duncan kept glancing at Jeff’s face before hurriedly looking back down with a despondent sigh, he really wanted Jeff to ask what was so disastrous about Chang and his crabs.  But he was not going to fall for it, no, he very clearly told them that mediating the extensive set of agreements that sanctioned their relationship was the extent of his interaction with them As A Couple, clearly stated in the fine print—

“Okay, what’s the matter with Chang and his crabs?”

Damn him and his sentimentality.

Duncan immediately sat up, setting his hands very seriously against the tabletop.  “Well, for one thing, the _sewer_?  I don’t believe that hermit crabs can survive in the sewer for that long, and even if that was the case, what if they’re carrying diseases?  He’s with them constantly, always holding them and kissing them, what if he gets something from them?  What if they’re mutated?  I don’t need any Teenage Mutant Hermit Crab shenanigans in my flat, thank you very much.  Also, and I think you should know this, they’re all named Jeff.”

Jeff raised an eyebrow.  “All of them?”

“All of them.”  Grimacing, Duncan crossed his arms.  “I kindly told him he could name one Ian Jr. and he said it was dumb.  Can you believe that?  What’s _dumb_ is cooing over those pests twenty-four-seven.  _That’s_ dumb.”

“I’m guessing that Chang doesn’t spend a lot of time cooing over you, then.”

The look Jeff got, had Duncan’s glasses not been smudged to dampen the effect, could have stripped paint.  “ _No_.  I’m worried about the diseases.  The cooing is just – it’s dumb, it’s just _really stupid_.  I came here because you’ve been in this situation—”

“Not romantically, no.”

“—as a former roommate,” Duncan continued, cheeks flushing, “and he named them all after you which definitely does not bother me, ever, but it should bother you because it might be a symptom of murderous obsession, but that’s not going to matter when he dies of a horrible mutant crab disease.  What if people try to comfort me?  Do you know how horrible it would be to have people try to comfort me because my – my partner was murdered by his mutant sewage crabs?  How do I even recover from the embarrassment—”

Jeff raised his hand in a calming gesture.  Almost immediately, Duncan cut the rant off, mouth still opening and closing indignantly until finally his shoulders slumped.

“Listen,” Jeff said, in the same calm and slightly condescending voice he used to employ in study group arguments, “if that degree in psychology is any good, you’d realise that you’re just projecting your insecurities about an admittedly fragile and confusing relationship onto these hermit crabs.”

“Well, obviously,” Duncan said impatiently.  “And?”

“That’s all I got.”

“I come to you for advice, and this is what I get.”

Shrugging, Jeff took a moment to raise his eyebrows in acknowledgement at Craig entering the staffroom.  “What do you want me to say?  Talk to him?  It’s Chang.”

If Jeff in any way considered Duncan a decent partner, he would have expected Duncan to go on the defence regarding Chang’s communicative skills, which had honestly improved in the past year thanks to newly positive relationships, as gay as Chang claimed that was.  What Duncan said instead, as Craig came up to their table with a fresh mug of coffee, was, “How in the world am I supposed to talk to Ben about his crabs?”

Right on cue – and Jeff had to admire the timing – Craig spat out his coffee, spittle accidentally flecking the back of Duncan’s neck as he jumped.  “I’m sorry, Ben has crabs?”

* * *

By the time Duncan returned to his – their – flat, it was dark and raining and Duncan did not feel adequately prepared for his current life choices at all.  From the rough morning after his conversation with Jeff and twenty minutes wasted trying to explain his situation to the Dean without sounding too much like a melodramatic adolescent from some wretched teen movie, the entire day had been a long trial of tedious classes and unruly students giggling and pointing at him all day.  Not an unusual occurrence, but usually preceded by a rum night, and last night he’d been drinking strictly wine to suit his melancholic mood. 

Also, he had spilled mustard on his tie at lunch – a green-and-purple plaid monstrosity Chang found for him at a garage sale, which could only be an omen regarding this stupid, ill-thought relationship.

As awful as Greendale had been, he found himself reluctant to leave.  Instead he found excuses to putter around his office, marking papers he’d usually leave off for a month and organizing his pens by ink-content – anything to put off the inevitable. 

He hadn’t seen Chang since they had parted ways this morning for their separate classes.  Their last bit of communication had been a text letting Duncan know that Chang, with only morning classes that day, was hitching a ride home with Britta.  And she probably dragged Chang to the cat shelter, and he probably bummed weed off her, but the shelter closed at half past six and he’d be in their flat by now, on their couch, hermit crabs crawling all over him.  Not a mental image he relished walking in on.  But unless he wanted to sleep in the car and consequently admit to everyone why he slept in the car, like some asshole incapable of dealing with minor inconveniences, he would have to toughen up.

As expected, the first thing Duncan saw when he walked through the door was Chang sprawled on the sofa, a crab perched on his nose.  Mumbling a half-hearted greeting, Duncan hung up his coat and toed off his shoes, making his way to the little corner of the sofa Chang had not claimed.

“Sup,” Chang said, mouth barely moving in order to not disturb the crab’s position.  “Thought you got murdered.”

“Oh, you know, all that paperwork, I may as well have been.”  Trying not to stare at either the beast rudely atop his partner’s face, or the tank overtaking their coffee table, Duncan started cleaning his glasses.  “And, uh, you…?”

“It was cool.”  Chang plucked the crab off his face, cradling it in his palm as he sat up and gave Duncan a sidelong glance.  “Hung out a bit.  Brainstormed some new names for the crabs with Britta.”

At that, Duncan cautiously perked up –honestly, having five crabs named Jeff was a tad overkill, not to mention rather suspect considering Chang’s very _friendly_ feelings that Duncan did not want to think about towards their namesake.  “Any new Ian Jr.’s…?”

“Ha!  No.”  Chang twisted around so that he could comfortably jab his elbow into Duncan’s chest, crab cradled against his chest as he gestured at its tank mates.  Unbidden, Duncan’s arm came up around Chang’s shoulders in the same movement he used to shift away from the elbow.  “I’m not gonna let the poor guy get bullied by all the crabs with cooler names.  Naw, see I was thinking stuff like Donajeffo, Jeffael…”

Duncan’s arm stiffened.

“…Jeffnardo, Michelanjeffo, and of course—”  He leaned over, carefully dropping the last of them into the tank.  For a moment, Duncan thought about taking the chance to escape, but then Chang was already settled back against his side.  “—Jeff O’Neil, hermit reporter extraordinaire.”

“Ah.  I will say, those are a bit more creative than your original theme—”

Chang snorted.  “Yeah, you don’t have to bullshit me.  Garrity was livetweeting your entire convo with Jeff.  Britta came up with Jeffael, but she also suggested Jeffelangelo, which is almost worse than Ian Jr., so I vetoed that one.  If you’d gotten home earlier, I would’ve let you do the Leo, but Jeffnardo is what we have to live with now.”

“Hm.”  Duncan thought carefully over his options, regretted blocking Garrity on Twitter after the Dave Matthews Band debacle, then made to rise.  “Well, I’m all tuckered out, think I’m ready for a kip—”

He didn’t stand a chance – Chang’s hand tightened around his elbow and yanked him back down, swinging himself up onto Duncan’s lap before he had a chance to object.

“Listen,” Chang said, hands coming up to Duncan’s cheeks and forcing him to look at an unusually grave expression, “if I wanted to screw around with a crab, I would have bought you a suit.”

“That’s, um, not what my concern was actually—”

“And I’d call you Jeff O’Neil.  The entire time.”

“ _Christ_.  Let’s shelve that thought, and then never consider it again.”  Sighing, Duncan settled his hands awkwardly against Chang’s hips.  “Just – are you mad, or anything?  About how much I detest those beasts?”

The serious face broke with a snicker.  “Dude, did you think you were _subtle_?  I kept them around mostly to piss you off.”

Duncan scowled, but softened when Chang dropped one of his sloppy, aimless kisses on his cheek.  “Well, you managed that.  How about you get rid of them now?”

“Now that I’ve got kickass names for them?  No way!  I’ve already messaged Abed about a possible TV show, we just have to work around the copyright…”

Remarkably, after all the stress and uncertainty of the day (or of the last few weeks, or since he let Chang into his apartment, or since Chang had first kissed him without so much as a ‘how do you do’), sitting there with Chang’s weight slowly deadening the feeling in his thighs as he nattered on about how Britta offered one of her cats to act as a Splinter-stand-in felt like the easiest thing in the world.  All he had to do now was flush the pests down the toilet.


End file.
